Diary of A Hollywood Girl
by StuckInAJar
Summary: It's not easy having a movie and pop star as your boyfriend. How would I know, you ask? Well that's because I have one. This is my personal diary. Come along with me because this will be one bumpy ride.
1. June 1

SUMMARY: It's not easy having a movie and pop star as your boyfriend. How would I know, you ask? Well that's because I have one. It comes with some perks, but you also have to make a lot of sacrifices. This is my personal blog/diary. I will share every last secret with you. This will be one bumpy ride.

_I don't own anything….blahblahblah. __**DISCLAIMED**_

* * *

After the original riot with Christopher (Chris to me) showing up to prom, things died down a lot. People had to focus on studying for finals and finishing up the year. Chris was busy in rehearsals for his World Tour and press appearance. During that month it was easy not to obsess over missing him too much.

But now school is done for the year. It's summer holiday. Previous years me and Sara have anxiously awaited the two and a half months of freedom. Right now we are dreading them. Chris kicks off his world tour tonight with a benefit concert. I won't get to see him at all until the tour ends in early September. His manager Stubby (aka Sara's boyfriend) is with him the whole time. Which leaves Sara and I bored and alone all summer.

Mom and Dad decided they needed some time away from Kalamazoo, Michigan and are gone on a trip across Europe on their second honeymoon. They are leaving us alone because they felt that because Sara was 18 and I was 16 we would be able to take care of ourselves. Of course it gave them piece of mind that our boyfriends would be halfway across the country too.

"Is it September yet?" Sara asked as we lounged on the couch, her watching StarStruck and me reading a book.

"Only three more months."

"I hate summer."

"Me too." I needed something to occupy the empty, dead space that now filled our house. "Are the celebrities up to anything interesting today?"

"See for yourself."

She turned up the volume. Libby Lamb was reporting as per usual.

_We are here outside the Beverly Hills Hotel where fans are lined up for several blocks in the hope to catch a glance of Christopher Wilde. He kicks off his three-month world tour tonight here, with a private performance and appearance at the Make-A-Wish Foundation annual banquet. Party Planners tell us that funds raised tonight will not only go directly to the Foundation's budget but a portion will also be donated to the Central African Childrens' Fund. Stars and civilians alike have been arriving for hours. It seems as if everyone in Hollywood and not is here._

"Everyone but us," Sara mumbled.

_Christopher himself is yet to walk the blue carpet but when he does StarStrck will be there first with an exclusive interview. Stay tuned to StarStruck TV for more. I am Libby Lam reporting live from Beverly Hills Hotel. Back to the studio with Stacey._

Sara turned off the TV. "I hate world tours."

"Hey at least Stubby might be able to leave for a few days and steal you away. Chris can't leave his own tour."

"I guess you're right. But how can I be even a little happy when you have no hope of happiness this summer. I mean, you social life is so non-existent without Christopher that it physically pains me. I feel so sad for you."

"Thanks, I think." As much as I love Sara, she can be difficult at times. And confusing.

If this was how the whole summer was going to be, I might have to go into hibernation.

"Let's order take-out," she said. "What do you want?"

"General Tao's Chicken." It was my comfort food.

"From Lulu's?"

"Yeah."

As she texted our order from her phone I pulled mine out of my pocket. As I was scrolling through my contacts, just as something to do, it vibrated. It was a text message. From Christopher.

_Miss you like crazy. I'll be thinking of you during the entire concert. Call you after. Have a great summer. :)_

Sigh. He was so sweet despite his pop star front.

_Have an awful summer ;)_

I got a reply almost immediately.

_I'll try my hardest._

I almost hope he means that. I want him to enjoy his tour but I'd still rather he was here. I hate summer.

"Done," Sara said. "Twenty minutes."

"Great. What do we do until then?"

She sighed. "Might as well make ourselves more miserable."

"That will be hard."

"We can try."

She turned the TV back on.

_I'm Libby Lam reporting live from Beverly Hills Hotel where Christopher Wilde has just arrived with his manager and best friend Stubby. And here he comes. Christopher Wilde, it's a pleasure._

_**Always Libby.**_

_So Christopher, what prompted you to kick off your world tour with a benefit concert?_

_**I wanted to start this tour different than my others. A completely new and fresh idea. Most people just have a sold out concert with a huge after party to start a tour but I wanted to be different. I wanted to give back to some of the fans and by doing this I am able to entertain some of the most deserving.**_

_Wow, that's just great. Can you tell us a little bit about your tour this time around?_

_**Well, I can't give too much away but I can say that it's a really interactive concert; there is a lot of crowd participation. We also get to go to a lot of smaller towns.**_

_We, and all your fans, can't wait to see._

_**I'm looking forward to see all of them too.**_

_Any last words before you go in and kick off your biggest and best tour yet?_

_**Yeah.**_ He looked straight into the camera. _**I want to give a shout-out to my best friend Jessa and though Stubby had disappeared he would want to say 'Hi' to Sara. Also my sister Erin and her husband Sanjaya. I know I'm a doofus but you know you love me anyway.**_ He and Libby laughed.

_Well, thank you Christopher I'll see you around._

_**Bye Libby.**_

"Why do I feel like that should make us feel better?"

"Because," Sara answered in the same sullen tone as me, "he acknowledged both of us. On national television."

"Then why do I feel worse than before?"

"Because we should be with them there. Instead of in an empty house in Kalamazoo, Michigan."

"I hate summer tours."

"That makes two of us."

We finished watching Star Struck after we got our food and then both went to bed.

Very uneventful.

This is turning out to be a crappy summer holiday.

* * *

I was inspired tonight and wrote this.

Click that little—link (I liked it better when it was a box) down there and tell me what you think.

It's set up to continue it if you want me to. Let me know!

Love you all,

_**Sami**_


	2. June 2

_SUMMARY: It's not easy having a movie and pop star as your boyfriend. How would I know, you ask? Well that's because I have one. It comes with some perks, but you also have to make a lot of sacrifices. This is my personal diary. I will share every last secret with you. This will be one bumpy ride._

_I don't own anything….blahblahblah. __**DISCLAIMED**_

I was so surprised at the popularity of this story. Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews and all the story alerts and favorites. I was shocked at how many hits this got on the first day and then every day since.

I hope this new chapter doesn't disappoint.

* * *

June 2

It's officially Day 2 of summer at 9:07 am. Let's look at today's itinerary. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, and to round off the day – nothing. What an exciting day me and Sara have planned.

If I am going to sit around doing nothing, again, might as well do nothing with Sara on the couch. Out of bed and off I go.

Is it bad to hate summer this much?

* * *

It's now almost ten p.m. and as much as I would love to say my day got better than originally planned, it didn't.

As expected, me and Sara didn't do much today. There was an all-day long marathon of programs on everything Christopher Wilde in honor of the "Biggest World Tour of the Decade". We watched that most of the day, although we did differ to watching Gilmore Girls for a couple hours.

I don't want it to sound like me and Sarah are lazy we just didn't have the will to do anything else. We are still in a period of mutual depression with a sprinkle of separation anxiety rolled in.

Don't believe me? Here's proof. This is the conversation that Sara and I had on several occasions today:

Sara: This summer sucks.

Me: We know.

Sara: We should do something.

Me: What is there to do?

Sara: We could go to the library?

Me: You hate that.

Sara: The mall?

Me: _I_ hate that.

Sara: Then what should we do?

Me: What we have been doing all day – Watching Star Struck to make ourselves miserable.

Sara: Is the tour over yet?

Me: Not for three more dreadful months.

Don't you just _love_ my optimism?

As much as it pains me to say it, this summer would have been a let down even if I wasn't dating Chris. Last summer we went to the Philippines on a family vacation. It was awful but at that point, Sara wasn't as vocal about her Christopher Wilde obsession so I wasn't suffering the entire time. Mom and Dad had us running around to all the tourist attractions but nonetheless it was beautiful and an overall good vacation.

Hard for the Summer of Nothing to live up to, no?

Putting aside the fact that Stubby and Chris aren't here and Sara and I are obsessing there is not else we can do. Two years ago Sara spent all of her time at AJ's house and I read a lot. After AJ's fit of jealousy after the Prom Debacle last month, she and Sara aren't really friends anymore. Sara isn't spending time over at her house and I find it difficult to focus on literature.

Bored.

Bored.

Boring.

Bored.

I didn't know one could be this bored. I'm literally sitting here on my bed writing this and spacing off to think about Chris every five seconds. This is bad. I can't focus on anything. At this rate by the end of summer I will be brain dead.

_Focus, Jessica!_

_Just because you have a famous, gorgeous, caring, talented, _amazing_ boyfriend doesn't mean that you are allowed to become a mindless robot over the summer. You must focus your attention on something important._

You're right, inner-voice-of-reason. I can't allow myself to become like Sara was a little over a month ago. I'm not a bumbling idiot. I have a reason, purpose. I must find it.

**List of Goals to Accomplish During Summer Holiday**

+Not constantly obsess over Chris

+Get Sara off the couch, stop obsessing over Stubby

+Read ten books (more is acceptable)

+Leave the house at least three times a week to keep you and Sara from becoming hermits

+Avoid watching StarStruck as mush as possible with Sara around

+Not obsess over Chris

+Consistently continue to write in this diary

+TRY to not obsess over Chris

Um…I think that's it. I can always add to or change it later.

Now the challenge is forcing myself to follow these so-called goals and not revert back to my old (okay current) sullen ways.

It' s officially 10:27 p.m. – which means that in California time Chris's show is about to start I should call him – _No! Not being obsessive._

As I was telling you and myself: It's 10:27 p.m. Eastern Standard Time on the second official day of summer holiday. I have set goals to keep myself grounded this summer and purposeful. I will not become a mindless dreamer.

Okay, here we go…

My phone is ringing. I hope it's Chris. Maybe he's just as miserable as me. No…I don't mean that. Well, in all honestly I do. I told you I wouldn't lie and saying I hope that he is having so much fun on his new tour that he doesn't miss me at all is a lie.

But, knowing him, he's probably hyped on adrenaline for his first public concert. Nervous to see how people will react after everything that has happened in the last couple months. Too busy to call me.

It's probably Mom and Dad calling from their hotel to let us know that their flight arrived fine. It makes sense that they called my cell because I am more likely to pick up than Sara is. I don't really want to talk to them as I will probably not pay much attention, even though I know I should.

Stupid concert tour.

Luckily, my phone just stopped ringing so my lovely dilemma of whether or not to listen to my parents drone on about their 23-hour plane ride has been solved by them.

Now to get back to my not-obsessing over Chris. I sound like some crazy fan girl don't I? If I didn't care about him so much, the need to hate celebrity would overcome me. But Chris isn't just some celebrity though. He's a real person.

Now the home phone is ringing. Mom and Dad must really want to talk to me and Sara.

"Jessa!" Sara calls up the stairs.

"What?" I yell back half-heartedly. As I said earlier, I'm not in the mood to talk to my parents.

"Jessica!"

"WHAT?"

"Pick up the phone!"

I know that Mom and Dad will be able to hear if I argue with her. I might as well just suck it up and listen. I doubt what they say will be of much importance, so I'll close today's entry with new found hope that this summer may be minimally better than it was an hour ago.

_Hello?_

* * *

Thank you again for all the positive feedback.

Virtual cookies for anyone who leaves even a one word review.

I'll write the next chapter and get it up hopefully in the next couple days…but don't hold me to that.

I love you all!

_**Sami**_


	3. June 2 & 3

_Sorry for the lateness! I have been busy teaching at a camp at my church this week and haven't had much time to write. I'll keep this short and let you start reading._

_DISCLAIMER: Trust me if I really owned these characters I would be much richer and probably writing professionally and not on Fan Fiction._

* * *

Still June 2…very late June 2nd

So, guess who I just got off the phone with? _Not_ my parents. It wasn't them. It was Chris! He's so sweet despite his celebrity image. He called because he said that he didn't want to listen to the opening act for the third time that day…

"I guess you were busy then?"

"The tour director had this crazy idea that we had to rehearse the entire concert sequence from beginning to end…twice."

"For sound check?"

"Before and not including sound check."

"Ouch. I'm sorry."

"Living the dream, I guess." He sighed. "So how was your day?"

"Oh it was just fabulous," I said as sarcastically as I could manage. "You would have loved it. Me and Sara sat on the couch all day watching TV."

"What did you watch? Was there anything interesting on?"

"Um…"

"Come on. It can't be that bad. What did you watch?"

"Well there was this marathon on…of documentaries. Nothing you would have enjoyed." I was lying so badly but it was for a good cause.

"Hmm…if I recall correctly there was a marathon about me today. You weren't watching that were you?"

"Why would I want to watch an all day marathon about a made-up person that millions of girls all around the world idolize when I know that's not who he really is? The real thing is _so_ much better."

"So you did watch me?"

"I never said that."

"I think you did."

"No I didn't."

"But you did, didn't you."

"Yes."

"Ha! You did watch me all day."

"Maybe I was wrong," I said thoughtfully, not denying or accepting his latest accusation.

"About what?"

"Maybe the real person is worse than the faux one. At least the paparazzi version of Christopher Wilde isn't manipulative and a jerk to his girlfriend."

"Ow! That hurts Jessica." He pretended to be hurt but I could hear the smile in his voice. "And right before I have to go out and perform in front of a sold out crowd of 21,000 adoring fans."

"You know you'll do fine. You always do."

"Maybe I should choose one of those 21,000 fan girls to be my new girlfriend. You and your pure, brutal honesty aren't helping my nerves much."

"I recall you once said that you liked my honesty."

"Maybe I don't so much," he said laughing.

I stuck my tongue out at him. He obviously couldn't see me but it seemed like the right thing to do.

"Don't stick you're tongue out at me!"

"Awww, you know me so well."

We laughed.

"I have to go get wired-up but I'll see you tomorrow right?"

"You'll see me?"

"Video chat? 3:30? We set it up last week."

"I don't remember that really but I was in the middle of Finals so it's not really surprising."

"You aren't busy are you?" He sounded nervous? Does he really miss me as much as I miss him?

"No."

"Good." He sounded relieved. "I'll see you then. Bye."

"Bye Chris. Have a good concert."

After he called on the landline I checked my cell to learn that Chris had called that too. Have to compliment the boy for continuity and follow through. And understanding about my lack of memory due to schoolwork. I guess I have something to look forward to tomorrow. :)

* * *

June 3

Good morning!

Sitting on the couch watching a movie with Sara. First time in almost three days that we aren't watching Starstruck. It is easier to be less lonely after talking to Chris and knowing that I get to see him, if not in real life than in video form. It's better than nothing.

This movie is supposed to be a comedy but I'm having a hard time paying attention which is why I've decided to take this opportunity to write.

Maybe following my checklist won't be so hard. It is a good distraction to write in here and it's kind of become a habit-in-the-making the last few days. We aren't watching StarStruck – item number two. While Sara and I are still on the couch she isn't complaining about not being with Stubby, yet. She talked to him longer than I talked to Chris last night so she is content for the next couple days…hopefully.

The big (and in my opinion hardest) thing on the list – not allowing thoughts of Chris to dominate my every thought. Not really as bad as I thought to do. Like I said, knowing that he isn't forgetting me and starting to act like the famous Christopher Wilde helps. Also, once I start to think about it, if I spend every moment of the day thinking only about Chris than I am no better than the crazy fan girls that seem to be around every corner. I can _clearly_ remember what it was like when Sara was like that. Not a fun time. I can't let myself lose my solid footing of the figurative ground and let my head roam in the clouds. Hence, no Chris thoughts preoccupying my mind.

Sara just sighed really loudly. Ignoring her…

She just did it again which means she wants attention.

"What Sara?"

"Stubby hasn't texted me back."

"And…?"

"And I have texted him three times and he hasn't responded yet."

"It's only like nine o'clock in LA. He is probably still sleeping."

"But he was texting me earlier, then just stopped."

"Maybe his phone died."

"He could plug it in."

Sara only sees what she wants to see. She is a very difficult sister to live with.

"What…What if he doesn't like me any more?"

Now it's my turn to sigh. "You talked to him for almost three hours last night, of course he likes you."

"Maybe." Sara doesn't look encouraged though.

"Would it make you feel better if I asked Chris why Stubby isn't responding?"

"Yes," she whimpers. Do you see why she is so difficult?

I text Chris.

_Sara is worried that Stubby hasn't texted her back. Any solutions?_

I press Send. "There. Done. Happy now?"

"Only when he texts you back."

Ten minutes later and Chris hadn't texted my back either. Weird. "They are probably busy press or something," I say even though I am just as worried as Sara now. I'll ask Chris what they were doing later.

* * *

I log on to Skype. It's 3:27. I am so nervous. But happy. I'm happy-nervous.

I see the icon next to his screen name go from grey to green. It asks if I want to answer the video call from CWilde42. I click answer and adjust my screen so I am looking into the camera but can still see him without too much off a glare.

"Look! It _is_ true that rock stars can be on time to things."

"Only when I get to the person I care about almost more than myself." I feel myself flush a deep red but don't say anything. "It was hard though. We were running late and not for any fault of my own…right Stubby?"

"Right!" I here Stubby yell from somewhere I can't see.

"What was holding you up?"

"The employees of the place we were at."

"Yeah," Stubby says, coming into the view of the camera. "You should have seen Chrissie here. He was freakin' out."

Chris hits him. "Shut up man!"

"Ow. You hit me!"

I laugh at their antics. "Well, I'm glad you're here now."

Stubby rolls his eyes and walks away.

"I'm glad too," Chris says. "Though it's awful out here. Really humid. How does anyone live here?"

"Humid? Where are you? It doesn't get humid in LA and you live there so you wouldn't be complaining about it. You love 'your city'."

"Yeah. We have a couple days off before the next concert. Well only two but it's better than nothing. Well, long story short we took a little trip. A mini vacation of sorts."

"Fun."

"I hope so."

"So…where are you?"

"Why don't you come outside and see?"

* * *

I was going to include more at the end but that took the chapter to almost 3,000 words, twice what I normally do, so you will see what happens in the next chapter. I hope to get it up by the end of the weekend.

Reviews = love :)


	4. June 3

Disclaimer: Does anyone actually care that this is here?

_**Yes I'm an incredibly awful person, I know. I was writing future chapters and never got around to finishing this one. You all have to right to hate me forever and unalert and unfavorite for my tardiness but I really hope you don't ;) And now without further delay…**_

* * *

_June 3_

So, I just went into a little bit of a shock…Who am I kidding? I completely froze when Chris basically just told me he was here. By the time I unfroze – just now – he had already ended our call and signed off. I guess that means I _have_ to go and see where he is. Not that I wasn't going to in the first place, but I would have probably screamed some, and then start firing off questions, that is if he were still right in front of me via video. But…Since he no longer is…I have no choice do I? I _must_ go see where he is. Aah! Here I go…

* * *

_Approx. 15 minutes later, in a limo_

As romantic and amazing as it would have been to have Chris and Stubby sitting outside the house, this rivals it. How many people can honestly say that they have walked out of their house to find a black, stretch limo waiting for them to take them to a mysterious, unknown place where their boyfriend will be waiting? So far, I know only two. Me and Sara.

Like I said, being close with a celebrity has its perks.

I wonder where Chris and Stubby are waiting. Maybe they are at the park down the street. But I would have recognized that in the video. And we've been driving too long for that to be where we are going. Where else would they be? Sure there are other parks and plenty of places outside in Kalamazoo but nowhere near where we live.

"Where are they?" Sara whines.

"How am I supposed to know?" I snap, sounding harsher than I meant too.

"Sorry," she mumbles. "I only wanted to know."

Sigh. I know the feeling.

She takes out her phone and starts texting.

"Don't even try to get their location out of either of them. I've tried."

She sighs and puts he phone away. "I hate waiting."

"I know."

We both sit there awkwardly for a moment before I break.

"Hey," I say unbuckling my seat belt and sliding to the front of the back seat. "You know we're going. Tell us."

"Sorry girls, I can't," the driver says.

"Why not?"

"They told me I wasn't supposed to tell you."

"Please?"

"Can't disobey direct orders." That didn't help at all.

"How much did they pay you to tell us that?" Sara asks from next to me. When did she move?

"Nothing." This guy is a bad liar.

"No, really. How much?"

The driver sighs. "A lot."

"I'll pay you double." While I can't deny that I don't like Sara being so assertive and trying to find out information, she may be talking too fast. Chris has a lot. Stubby has a lot. Together they have more than our parents make in a year. Where is she going to get the money?

"Can't."

"Triple." Yep, we're definitely going to go bankrupt.

"I doubt you two girls from Michigan can afford to pay me 3,000 just for me to tell you where your boyfriends are hiding."

"Done." Thanks Sara. There goes my college fund.

"No."

"Tell us."

"No."

"Tell us."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

This is one for the books. Real mature. My older sister and a limo driver are arguing like kindergarteners. What a way to spend the day.

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Just stop!" I yell. I couldn't take their childish ways any more. "Are you going to let us in on the secret or not?"

"While I would love to help you girls out, there is no way I'm testing the limits of Christopher Wilde and his manager. Those two together are intimidating. They paid me a thousand bucks to pick you up and not tell you where you're heading _and_ threatened my job if I did."

"Fine. Great. Can you at least tell us how long until we get there?" Some information is better than none.

"Sure." Finally something helpful! "Now."

"Thanks," I say sarcastically. "That's real helpful."

"Stop badgering Phillip," someone said from behind me.

"Oh…So the non-helpful, annoying, bribed limo driver's name is Phillip."

"Yes."

"Well that's nice."

"I should also tell you to not be mad at me because you're supposed to be happy to see me."

"Oh really?" I ask in a sarcastic/coy way. "And why is that?"

"Because I spent my only day off for the next three months flying out of LA at ungodly times in the morning to come and see you. And I have surprises all day planned."

I smile, not saying anything. I hope he takes my silence as a good thing because I am still facing away from him. He slid in behind me and has been talking into my ear this whole time as I half talk to him; half scribble everything he is saying down in my notebook.

"Do you know how hard it is to get to and from an airport without being seen?"

"I think I know better than you think I do."

"And what makes you say that?"

"It was pretty hard to hide on my way out of the airport back from Los Angeles back in April. I was running and hiding behind large objects and I couldn't exactly tell me parents."

"You didn't tell me that you had a hard time getting out of the airport then."

"It was before you apologized and everything else happened…the dance namely. I didn't know if there were actually any paparazzi at the airport but I was being cautious and trying to hold off the storm as long as possibly."

"Were you hit in the head right before that too? Maybe on your way out of the plane?"

"No."

"Think really hard, are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Then you have some really weird habits."

"Shut up," I say, turning around to hit him.

"Hey, it's true. But I find everything you do cute and amusing."

"Well, I'm glad."

I sit there looking into his blue eyes. They are _really_ blue.

"So, are you going to tell me where we are now?"

"Only if you tell me what you have been writing in that notebook of yours the entire time I've been talking."

Uh oh…..

Thankfully Sara, who I hadn't even noticed get out of the limo yelled out, "Hey are you guys coming or not?"

"We're coming!" Chris answers for both of us. He turns back to me. "So are you going to tell me what that is?" he asks, nodding toward my notebook.

"Only after I get my answers."

"Later."

"Then you won't know until later then."

"What?"

"Hey, fair's fair superstar."

"Fine. Let's go."

More on his surprise visit later.

* * *

So I have a few minutes to myself to scribble everything down while Chris calls Phillip. Sara and Stubby are cuddling so I won't be bothered by them.

The main surprise from them to me and Sara was that, well, they were here obviously. But besides that they somehow had the park closed down are threw us a private picnic. And not just any park. It was the big outdoor park downtown that holds all of the major concerts and events that come here during the summer. It was incredibly sweet of them, though I have no idea how it was possible.

"People know and respect me," Chris said as his only response.

How very diplomatic. If his singing and acting career fails he can always become a Congressman.

Anyway, three hours of fun and food shortened up would go something like this:

Gourmet comfort food, chocolate-dipped strawberries, Chris's bad impression of Libby Lamb off camera, Stubby's worse impression of Chris, and over an hour of random, useless chat.

Basically, the most fun I have had since spring break in LA. Pure bliss.

Now we are all going back to the house to watch some movies and talk some more. The guys are staying the night before they have to head back to the tour party early tomorrow morning. I'm going to stop writing tonight and make the most of the time I have left before tomorrow. Chris is walking back over, meaning that Phil the limo driver is probably here to take us back to Suburbia.

What a great day this turned out to be.

* * *

_**So how many of you new that was going to happen? So as I've spent most of my time writing future chapters rather than this I know what happens (obviously), and can say while this has mostly just been fluff for the last four chapters conflict comes up in the next couple.**_

_**I would promise you a chapter in the next several days but we know how that always pans out. I promise it **_**will**_** be less than a week though.**_

_**Oh! And those virtual cookies I promised back in chapter two? You all get them…even if you didn't review, because it's amazing to me the positive response I've gotten.**_


	5. June 4

June 4

It's two am and Chris and Stubby have to leave in four hours. It's sad to see them leave and Sara will probably go back into her pre-visit stupor but maybe it was worth it. Everyone is getting ready for bed so I'm writing, again. Chris keeps asking what I'm writing and now even Sara has taken a bit of an interest.

I don't really know why I keep refusing to tell them. I guess I just want to keep them guessing partially. And, for the moment, it's possibly the one thing that is just mine. I have to share the house with Sara, Sara with Stubby, Chris with the rest of the world…See? There isn't a lot that I have all to myself. This journal is. It's the only place that I can be completely honest – with myself and about others. It's sort of my outlet for boredom, loneliness, stress, everything.

I don't want to share that with Sara, Stubby, my parents, even Chris because then it won't just be mine. I will be sharing it.

That isn't to say that I don't like Chris, Sara, and Stubby's futile attempts at figuring out what is written in here. There have been about a million suggestions: The perfect bank heist, love letters to Chris (that was from Sara), a kinky romance novel, homework (the only logical answer). The real answer is so common that they haven't guessed it yet. They are generally smart people who apparently have a habit of not seeing what's right in front of them.

Oh well, I'll just keep them guessing…

The guys will probably leave before me and Sara wake up. Their absence means that Sara will be moping all day. I probably won't write much tomorrow as there won't be anything interesting to write about. Oh how I just _love_ summers stuck in Kalamazoo.

* * *

_I know I really shouldn't have read this, shouldn't be writing in it now but I was so tempted. Jessa has been writing something in here in almost every spare moment she has. I really had no choice but to read and find out what her secret notebook contained. (Yes I know Stubby would be mad at me for saying that I "didn't have a choice" because I obviously did but…the suspense was killing me. I had to read this.)_

_Anyway, Jessica. Hi! I'm not sure when, or if, you will read this but please try not to overreact to it. I understand what you mean by having something just to yourself. And though, technically, you're kind of (not really) sharing this with me (because I read it when I wasn't supposed to) I think that it's good to keep something all to yourself when your world is dictated by things you have to share._

_I kind of blame so of it on myself though. It can't be easy being my girlfriend…if that's what you are. You're kind of my outlet, basically the only person I have that isn't in some way connected to the music or movie world. I have a lot of people like that who are always around me. I hardly get a moment alone. You're awesome for dealing with my crazy, unpredictable life and listening to me ramble on about everything and not complaining, ever._

_And for that I have one more surprise for you. Nothing big, but I hope you'll enjoy it._

_We have to leave for the airport but I'll talk to you as soon as I can get away from loud, obnoxious people._

Chris

_P.S. Please forgive me! :)_

* * *

June 4 11.00 am

No surprise that I slept as late as I did considering I didn't go to sleep until almost three. Even though nothing interesting is scheduled to happen today I have a feeling of impending doom. Although in this case "doom" may turn out to be a good thing.

And to answer the currently unanswered question: Yes, I did find Chris's entry in my journal and read it. While I am slightly annoyed that he read my private writing I can almost understand his rationale. Almost. But, I am willing to forgive him based on the sensitive and thoughtful things he wrote.

I also have a feeling that his next "surprise", as he called it, will be bigger and better than he let on. The way that he described it, in passing and if it wasn't a big deal (hint: it _is_) just makes me think that…I don't know. I don't like to be spoiled. Chris has a habit of throwing his money around. That was one of the first things that I learned about him. He has shown that he likes to spoil me, no matter how much I don't want or need it. That's why I'm worried about this surprise. Him going over the top with a gift is what is causing that feeling of impending doom.

Great. Thanks Chris.

He needs to stop. But he won't. Alas, I guess I'll just have to deal.

I have nothing else to write today, as nothing as happened yet. I'll keep you updated on what, if anything happens today.

. . .

One p.m.

Nothing.

. . .

Three p.m.

Sara is complaining of deathly boredom. Still nothing.

. . .

Five p.m.

Maybe I was wrong about something happening today.

. . .

Seven-thirty p.m.

Though about ordering take-out but decided against it. I ate an apple for dinner instead. Look at how healthy I am.

. . .

Ten p.m.

Chris's concert in San Diego is starting. No surprise after all. I haven't decided yet whether that is a good or bad thing.

…

Ten-thirty p.m.

Grandma just called. She said that the local news covered Chris's concert, both outside the venue and backstage. She told me that she was paying close attention to Chris's expression and body language when he was interviews and, these are her words not mine, "He looked like a heartbroken, lonely, lovesick puppy that was trying and failing to hide his feelings."

I love my Grandma.

. . .

Midnight

Happy June 5th. Can't sleep and attempting to read Austen but I can't seem to get into 18th century England.

I also can not seem to speak in complete sentences today. I've been out of classes for too long.

La la la la

That stupid song that Chris and I sang in his car on our impromptu tour of Los Angeles is stuck in my head.

_There's something about the sunshine baby. I'm seeing you in a whole new light…_

Aah! I hate when this happens. . . .I just realized that I was writing about the song stuck in my head. That is really sad. This shows how boring my life truly is. Either that or I'm turning into Sara. I hope it's the former.

Someone just rang to doorbell. Who would come to our house now? It's midnight for goodness' sake!

If it's Chris or anyone associated with him I will kill them.

. . .

12:22 am according to the digital clock in the car.

Well it wasn't Chris.

It was the cops.

Sara and I were taken into police custody for a reason they won't tell us.

Can't write anymore because I'm technically supposed to have taken anything from the house. Oops.

* * *

**So how was that for an ending?**

**This probably isn't the best chapter but I wanted to get it out for you guys because I'm being exiled to Internet Siberia (aka my grandparents house) all next week. They don't own a computer so I won't be able to update until Thursday at the earliest. I have the next chapter almost completely written though so I'll try to get the next chapter uploaded to the Doc Manager before I leave so I can edit and update when I'm at my friend's house there. But if I can't I will update first thing when I get home.**

**I love reviews. They make me smile...**


	6. June 5

_Uploading this from home, I ended up having to stay an extra day and a half because of an unexpected funeral._

_Sorry about the suckiness of the last chapter. I could have done a _lot_ better but I wanted to get something out before I left so I wrote it really fast and didn't do any editing. Ahhh! I hope this is better._

* * *

June 5

I didn't expect to have to stay up until three two nights in a row. Yesterday was by choice and today…well, not so much. The two cops that dragged me and Sara from the house refuse to tell us anything other than their names. They call themselves Fletcher and Hack. No first names, no pleasantries. Just an "I'm Fletcher, he's Hack. No talking". Other than that the two haven't spoken a word.

Even though nothing exciting ever seems to happen in Kalamazoo this police station sure is a flurry of activity. There are many uniformed officers and agents wearing street clothes walking around. Though there are just as many desks around here as there are people no one is sitting. It's like they are all hyped up on caffeine and_ can't_ sit down so they pace and run around pointlessly. It's kind of annoying actually, like when Sara won't stop talking. She's doing that now.

She keeps rambling on about nothing. I don't think she's stopped to take a breath in the last five minutes. It sounds a little like this:

"I don't know how you people can do this to two young, innocent minors I mean really what have we done wrong? Besides having a picnic with our amazing, spectacular boyfriends yesterday all that me and my younger sister have done is lay on the couch and watch TV. What's illegal about that?"

But withouth the spaces.

That's what it is like to have a sister like Sara. She talks when she's tired, she talks when she's nervous, she talks when she's angry, she talks when she's bored, and she talks when she's being more or less ignored. All of which apply to right now.

I'm tempted to give her a piece of paper and a pen just to see if she will start doodling on it like she did when she was five. But that would involve stealing a pen from the desks of one of the cops who brought us in for a crime that we certainly didn't commit. And while I am not against spiting those who have it in for me…stealing from a cop isn't the most intelligent idea.

But one would think that you have to have some basis to take two minors into police custody. A warrant or at least an explanation. It can not be legal to randomly come to tear two people from their home at midnight, take them to the police station, drop them on an uncomfortable wooden bench, ignore their inquiries, and not tell them why they are not at home sleeping like they should be.

When – if – we ever get out of here I'm going to file a complaint against these people. There is something seriously wrong with our law enforcement. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Uh-oh Sara stopped talking. This can mean nothing good for me.

"Jessica." I have a feeling she is going to make me do something. "Stop writing and go find out what we're why we were arrested."

"We weren't arrested."

"Fine, whatever, just go find out why we're here."

"I'm pretty sure that we were instructed to stay here."

"Well you weren't supposed to take anything from the house but you didn't follow that rule did you?"

"Touché."

"What?"

Sometimes I wonder how she is older than me. "I'm not going."

"Yes you are."

"Why can't you?" Yes, I acknowledge that I will get more information out of any of the people here but I would rather not deal with them. I am highly disappointed in the group of people I used to look up to as a child and I feel that it would be disastrous for me to associate with any of them.

"Because if no one has listened to me yelling the last however long I don't think they will now."

"Fine," I say with a sigh giving in. "I'll be right back."

Great. Exactly the thing I didn't want to do at one o'clock in the morning I have to do.

. . .

So that was a bust. The officer at the desk, Annabelle Forehand, took one look at me and refused to tell me anything. I badgered her for five minutes with probing questions, and then just basic knowledge questions.

Nothing.

I swear all of the people in this place are uncooperative. It's awful.

Fletcher and Hack disappeared to somewhere unknown. This is pointless. This experience rivals all the Christopher Wilde chasing we did over spring break. Bo-ring.

. . .

10 minutes of listening to Sara complain later, approx. 1.15 am

This is getting worse by the minute. I can't take this neglect any longer. No one here has talked to us for almost an hour. I'm leaving. I'm just going to stand up and leave. Here I go.

. . .

Well, that was a laughable attempt. I got two steps before Annabelle noticed me walking away.

So now I am back on the hard wood bench next to Sara being ignored, great.

I wonder if there is a phone that I can get close enough to be able to call somewhere. Like Mom and Dad, or the mayor's office, or the cops. Oh wait! I can't call the police on themselves that just doesn't make any sense! Well neither does anything else in this building.

Here comes Fletcher maybe he will have something to tell us.

"Come with me."

Sara stood up. I think that she's too tired to do anything but talk aimlessly, let alone try to argue with a cop. While I may be exhausted I am awake enough to _not_ follow a few simple directions.

"Not until you tell us why we are here."

"Can't tell you miss."

"You can tell us something. I refuse to be ordered around by some middle aged cop in the middle of the night after being taken from my own house without some sort of explanation. I am certain that you can't do anything to a couple of minors without parental permission, or a lawyer present…or a warrant and an arrest."

"Miss, I can't tell you anything about your case," he says tiredly. "The only person with the authorization to do that is Chief Warsom and the detective in charge of furthering your case."

"Who is he?"

"Can't tell you."

That is just spectacular.

"Who can?"

"He will get you when he wants you."

"Fine. But you find him and tell him that I don't care who you are, or who he is, or what he's doing, that he needs to give us some answers soon or we will stop cooperating." I get a little snappy when I'm tired. I would apologize to the cop if it wasn't totally out of character at this moment in time.

My snootiness seems to have made Fletch here more awake.

"Sorry to burst your bubble Miss but while in police custody you don't really have a choice of what you do."

""I never said that I wasn't _not_ going to do things…I just meant that it would make it very difficult for all of you wonderful people."

"We can make it very difficult for you too, Miss Olsen."

"Oh trust me, you can't make it much more than it already is."

He didn't have a comeback for that statement. Win for a very tired Jessica.

"I warn you that Detective Cripps won't allow your backtalk so watch yourself."

Maybe this cop knows more information than he originally let on. "So his name is Cripps, huh?"

"Um…well…no, maybe…Detective Cripps is a, um, very honorable detective that is more than qualified to run this case investigation," he blubbers. "…If he were running it. Which he isn't."

This guy may be just as bad a liar as I am. Sara looks mildly confused. "Right. Just tell your boss, Cripps, if he is your boss, that we are his new top priority. I want to get home and to bed."

Fletcher turns to, presumably, leave to find Cripps. I He doesn't even get a step before a voice comes from the opposite direction.

"No need to come and find my Fletcher. I'm right here." This must be the "honorable and qualified" detective Cripps. "I can take care of these," he glances at me and Sara, "girls. You go home and get some sleep."

Fletcher nods gruffly and walks away down the hall. We all watch him leave. Cripps turns back to me and Sara. He regards us ruefully for a few moments before speaking.

"I'm Detective Jeremiah Cripps. I'm in charge of your case."

"What case do you have against us?"

"You can't be more than twenty-five." This a random statement from Sara. At least this proves she is still awake.

"Twenty-eight actually," Cripps answers jovially. How can he be so awake at practically two in the morning?

"How can you already be a detective?"

"Joined the force straight out of high school and then quickly rose through the ranks to now. Been here almost ten years."

"Unusual…" Sara is unusually thoughtful this late at night/early in the morning.

"If you look at it one way I guess it could." He is so dang happy and awake. I want to sleep.

But back to serious conversation. "So are you going to give us answers or what?"

"I'm not the one to relay that information. But if you just follow me to the conference room, the rightful owner of that information is waiting there…Are you taking notes on what I'm saying."

Is he talking to me? "Uh…yeah. Habit."

"Where did you develop that habit? Not exactly the most normal habit for a fifteen year old girl to have."

"I work for the school paper. My adviser insists we learn to take thorough notes."

"Of course she does." He gives me a suspicious, disapproving look then goes back to his unusually happy one. "Come, come."

I don't like this guy but don't have the energy to argue with yet another cop. So unto following him I will go.

Please let this night get better and not anymore.

* * *

_After having to completely rewrite this I fell that it felt more like a filler chapter than it should. It's not the best plot-wise but I hope it's better writing wise. I feel bad that I haven't been giving you my best. I promise that the next chapter will make much more sense. And some of the dialogue comes into play later in the game too._

_Fear not._

_I genuinely love reading every single one of your comments and criticisms. Keep 'em coming! :)_


	7. Still June 5

Still June 5

We followed Detective Cripps down a narrow, badly lit hallway where he stopped in front of a door. He unlocked it to reveal a conference table with a computer and web cam, as well as a large screen in the front of the room.

"Sit," Cripps ordered in gruff voice. Maybe Sara and I weren't the only ones who were tired in this place.

We sat down at the table. Cripps began fiddling with the computer. He opened Skype. It seems like it was only yesterday that I video chatted via Skype with Chris. That's right! It was. Have I mentioned that I really hate my luck today?

Cripps checked the camera at the front of the room that, I assumed, would be focused on me and Sara. After making sure that was connected he clicked on one of the names and requested a video conference.

The person accepted. A man in a dark blue suit in his mid-thirties sitting very regal and self-righteous at a desk appeared.

Cripps stood in front of the camera and cleared his throat before addressing the man. "Sara and Jessica Olsen, sir," he said indicating us with a nod as he said our names.

The suit thanked Cripps before looking at me and Sara, focusing mainly on me.

"My name is Erik Washington of Washington Management. I'm Christopher's –"

"Manager," I answered for him. After firing his parents, Chris signed on with a management agency. Well, I should say, he was sold to the highest bidder with the best "vision" for his career, but what's my opinion worth?

"Yes. " He paused, scrutinizing me. "I am the one who personally manages all career moves. My company also organizes all of his press statements and publicity. Our goal is to ensure that Christopher's career is managed in the most efficient and resulting way possible."

"Okay. That's nice." I already knew all of that. I'm not a complete idiot. I am also very cranky at almost three in the morning. "And what does his manager have to do with his girlfriend and her sister at two forty-three in the morning?"

"Like I said, my job is to ensure that he is getting the absolute most out the opportunities that his career presents. And it seems," he said with a grimace, "that a certain pretty brunette form Michigan occupies his thoughts more than his career does."

Is he really saying what I think he is?

"So it is the opinion of my and all those associated with Christopher's career that this little distraction be dropped. Or, more accurately, be dismissed."

I'll take that as a yes.

"Do we understand each other?"

I felt the urge to laugh. This is just too good. I didn't think that Hollywood actually worked this way: manipulation and clichés. I learn something every day.

"Miss Olsen? Are we clear? I have another engagement." Haha.

"We might be, Mr. Washington but before I have a couple questions for you."

He nodded. "Make it quick," Cripps grumbled from where he was standing in the corner.

"Right. So…Mr. Washington, it's my understanding that you are telling me that I am a 'distraction' to Chris, correct?"

"That is a correct statement."

"Mmhmm and you're also telling me that because I am a 'distraction' I am being dismissed by his management company."

"Yes."

"I'm new to this whole Hollywood business so let me see if I got this right. You're telling me that I'm not allowed to be with Chris. You're breaking us up."

"If you want to see it that way, yes."

I nodded. "And why did you have to have the Kalamazoo police take us into custody at midnight?"

"We wanted to make a statement to make sure that you knew we were being serious."

"I see. You never told me what Sara has to do with this."

"Your sister? Well, we felt that it would be unfair to you and Christopher if those closest to you were also in a relationship."

Sara perked up at this. "You're breaking me and Stubby up too?"

"Like I said earlier, we can't have Christopher being distracted from the tour."

"Who is 'we'?"

"Washington Management, his parents, his agent, everyone associated with Christopher's career."

"But not the boys?"

"Excuse me, dear? You must talk louder."

"Have you talked to Chris and Stubby about this…ultimatum?"

"We didn't want to upset Christopher and Mr. Stubbins. As Christopher's management team, it's our job to take care of issues such as these."

"Oh, so now me and Sara as issues that need to be taken care of. I see. I think I understand now."

"Good. So this problem is solved." He said is as a statement, rather than a question. Oh, was he wrong.

"Actually, it's not. The problem will be solved when you get Chris's opinion on it. It's _his_ final word I'll take."

"I'm sorry Miss Olsen. I don't think you are seeing how this works. There is another reason that I had you taken into police custody to talk to you. You can't leave until you're discharged and let go. I have it on good word from the Chief of Kalamazoo Police that he won't let you go until you agree to _my_ terms."

"And I don't think you see Mr. Washington that I don't follow Hollywood rules. I don't like being torn from my home at an ungodly time at night without explanation or a warrant for some big-headed Hollywood manager to tell me who I can and cannot date. I play by Michigan rules. That means that I don't have to listen to you. Or play by anyone else's rules. So," I stood up and grabbed my notebook. "I'm extremely tired, I'm going home. Have Chris call me with the final decision."

And I walked out.

I didn't go home. I felt it was too obvious and predictable. Instead I kept taking the first turns I found until I somehow made me way to the roof. Don't ask how because I don't know. It will be difficult trying to get down from here and out a normal door.

Now I feel a little bad about leaving Sara there but I'm sure she'll either eventually find me or make her way home. She'll probably be asleep before I get too. I envy her at the moment.

I've taken twenty minutes to write everything down so maybe I can make my way down, out, and home without another major disaster.

Maybe tomorrow will bring better happenings than tonight did. And I'm sure the conversation I'll be having with Chris won't be pretty.

I guess that's what my life is like this summer.

Until tomorrow,

Jessica

* * *

_So, at long last, Chapter 7! I love my techies. :D I don't know what they did but it fixed the server so I'm happy. Next chapter in a few days._

_(Psssssssst! Pssssssssssssst! That thing down there. The one that says "Review this story"? It loves you. It wants you to click it. It wants you to leave a comment that doesn't just say update please. Like I said…it REALLY loves you.)_


	8. June 5 Part 3

_Hey all! Make sure you have read Chapter 7. I replaced the A/N that was there with the actual chapter so I'm not sure if those of you on Story Alert got that e-mail. Last chapter was fairly important so make sure you have read it through._

_Enough of my rambling…on with the story!_

* * *

**June 5, Part 3**

This day is dragging on forever and it's only 10 am.

I finally got home after walking the two miles at three in the morning to find that Sarah was escorted home, in a car. Oh how I wish that could have been me. At least she waited up for me. That was nice of her.

Now, after sleeping a mere six hours, I am up because Mom and Dad are expected to call anytime now. Sara and I have collectively decided to skip telling Mom and Dad about being escorted to the police station to be threatened by a top Hollywood executive at midnight. Mom and Dad had a hard enough time getting used to the idea of us knowing the great Christopher Wilde, yet alone me dating him. They just might have concurrent heart attacks if they heard about our latest escapades.

We will let them enjoy their vacation without any added stress.

After an assuredly long conversation with my parents I'm gonna have to call Chris. He really needs to know about what his manager tried to do. Evil manager. As daunting as his parents were as managers being with an agency doesn't seem to be any better.

The phone is ringing so Mom and Dad must be calling. I won't bother writing any of it down as it is due to be an uninteresting and short conversation. Until later, Jessa.

…

_Ring, ring, ring._ Come on Chris, pick up your phone. _Ring, ring._ Lalalalala. Pick up your phone!

"You have reached the personal voicemail of Christopher Wilde. Please leave a short message and I will try to return your call as soon as possible. For all press inquiries please call my manager at 555-6948. For talent inquiries please call my agent at 555-8637. Thank you and have a wonderful day."

_Beep._

"Hey, Chris, it's Jessica. Um…just give me a call please. I have something important to talk to you about. Bye."

Well, _that_ was an extremely productive conversation. I can't think of any reason he isn't answering his phone. I'll try again.

_Ring, ring, ring._ _Ring, ring_. "Hi! You've reached the personal voicemail of Chris…" Hang up.

Okay, let me try this one more time.

_Ring, ring, ring._ "What?" an irritated voice yells from the other side.

"Stubby?"

"Yeah. _Calm down_!" He screams that last part at someone that's not me.

"It's Jessica. Why did you pick up Chris's phone?"

"Jessica? Thank goodness! Maybe you can calm him down."

"What's wrong?"

"I'll let Chris tell you."

I can hear a slightly muffled conversation between Chris and Stubby.

"I don't want to talk to whoever that is!" Chris says loudly, obviously not happy with someone or something.

"It's Jessica," Stubby says calmly, as if talking to a child.

"Oh," says Chris, not yelling anymore.

I hear some rumbling as the phone exchanges hands between Stubby and Chris.

"Jessa?" Chris says quietly, using my nickname.

"Yes, Christopher."

"Ahhh," he whines, "you can't be mad at me too. First my insane manager and now you? Who do I have left in the world?"

Oh Chris, always the dramatic one. "I'm not mad at you. What did you say about your manager?"

"He is a son of a —"

"Language!"

"Sorry." Man, I've got him whipped. "Gun. Son of a gun." Pause. "He's awful."

"How so?"

"I was on the phone with someone about a gift for you and my stupid manager stole the phone right out of my hand and ended the call. He wouldn't leave me alone until I proved I was going to do something that, in his words, was 'productive'. And even then he took my phone with him."

"How did you get your phone back?"

"Stubby went and stole it back for me."

"Well at least he is good for something," I say jokingly.

"I heard that!" Stubby yells defensively.

Chris and I share a laugh. "So, what does your evil manager have to do with your screaming fit?"

"That's not the only thing Mr. I'm-Erik-Washington-of-Washington-Management did. He also took my laptop, ipod, and guitar away for no reason whatsoever and locked them away in a safe. A safe with a biometric lock. That's the kind that you need a fingerprint with a pulse for."

"I hate your manager."

"Me too!" Chris sighs. I feel so bad for him; he's under so much stress. Look at me, the sympathetic girlfriend. How clichéd is that?

"Do you want another reason to hate your manger?

"You can try but I doubt there is much more that he can do to make me angrier."

I proceed to tell him about my interesting night last night. I'll spare you the details.

"I. Hate. Him." Uh-oh, the one word sentences phrase that means that Chris is very, _very_ mad. "I'm going to kill him."

"Please don't do anything rash…or illegal. I don't think I could handle you in jail."

"Am I allowed to at least hit him?"

"Not without someone there to restrain you from doing anything more."

"Does, Stubby–"

"Stubby does not count. You need someone with more logic than him"

"Fine."

"So, since you aren't allowed you go off on your evil manager what are you going to do with your day?"

"Waiting."

"Waiting for…" I let the sentence trail off, expecting him to fill in the missing piece.

"Tomorrow."

"Very cryptic, but I'll play along. What's tomorrow?"

"It's a secret."

"What kind of secret?"

"A Hollywood secret."

"Can I know this secret?"

"No."

"Does Stubby know this secret?"

"I feel that that is completely irrelevant, but yes."

"Does anyone else know this secret?" I feel like we are playing twenty questions. I guess in a way we kind of are.

"Let's see…I know, Stubby knows, your parents, your neighbors, your grandma, Sara is being told the secret right now."

"So the scream I heard from Sara downstairs has to do with this mysterious Hollywood secret that everyone but me is allowed to know?"

"Absolutely."

"Was Sara's scream a happy scream?"

"Knowing Sara she's probably running up the stairs to your room to tell you in five…four…three…two…"

Sara throws me door open with another scream and a huge smile. "Do you know yet?" she asks anxiously.

I shake my head. Sara puts her phone in the general area of her head. Not exactly the way normal people hold a phone but, then again, this is Sara. "Can I tell her?" She listens for a moment for beaming at me again. "WE'RE GOING ON TOUR!"

"What?" I ask this to Chris rather than Sara because I am more likely to get a regular volume answer.

"Well, I figured I need a few more sane people on this tour bus, and what better way to stick it to Erik the Evil other than to bring the one person that makes me the most distracted from what he wants for me?"

I'm speechless. I love Chris. Wait, _love_?

"I'll see you tomorrow Hollywood Girl," Chris says with a smile I can hear in his voice.

"Bye." I manage to choke out. I hang up the phone, still speechless.

"What are you doing just sitting there Jessica? We have to pack for the next three months!"

She runs out of my room and across the hall to hers. I go over to my closet and pull my biggest suitcase off the shelf. I'm going on tour. I get to see Chris everyday for the next three months!

* * *

_Constructive criticism is my favorite. :]_

_Sami_


	9. June 6

Let me tell you a mini-story before you get on to the real chapter (feel free to skip to the line if you don't want to read this).

Saturday night – ::logs onto internet:: What? I haven't updated FF since the 17th? No it can't be. That was two weeks ago. That must be wrong. ::looks at calendar and cross checks with email, FF, and word document:: Oh. I guess it has been. Crap.

I'm an awful updater I know. But in my defense I was at Band Camp all last week so my schedule was wake up, band camp, come home, eat, sleep…I had zero free time. SORRY!

Anyway, sorry (I apologize a lot) for the lack of timeliness and the long author's note. ON WITH THE STORY (of which I own nothing except the plotline)…

* * *

June 6, 10 am

Guess what? If you didn't already know I'm going on tour!

Take that evil manager Erik. You wanted me out of Chris's life forever and now I get to see him almost every minute of every day for the next three months.*insert evil laugh here* And that's not to mention that I get to see _you_ every day as well. Considering I will have a lot of free time to plan things to get back at you, well, let's say that you better watch your back Washington.

Now that I'm done fake ranting back to the main issue at hand…Wait, there is no issue. I'm completely happy right now.

In three hours I will be boarding a plane with Sara. We have a short layover in Detroit and then get on another plane to LAX. If everything stays on time then we will be in LA at about 5:15. The last "Christopher Wilde: The World Tour" show in LA was last night so after getting off the plane we are driving down to San Diego. It's a fairly short(ish) drive – about two hours – but after a six hour plane trip two more hours of sitting won't be fun.

I'm sure that Sara will be hyper the entire way so, if anything, I won't be bored. Currently, Sara is running around the hall alternating between screaming happily and running into every room to check if there is anything she's forgetting. This is one of the times I am wondering how we can be sisters.

I have to finish packing so I'm off.

TOURTOURTOURTOURTOURTOURTOUR! (And you all thought I wasn't excited.)

…

Just boarded the plane. Chris felt the need to buy us first class seats. He's going to hear about that.

Sara is practically bouncing with excitement but what else is new. It looks like I'll be spending the flight entertaining her. I should be honest though…on the inside I'm just as bad as her but I know how to control my emotions so as to not make myself look like a fool.

Does this "tour" thing still feel like a dream to you too?

…

Uneventful layover in Detroit.

Sara fell asleep an hour into our new flight and now I find myself bored. So, in order to relieve my flight-induced boredom I shall break out my more (for lack of a better word) evil side. I admit it isn't the nicest or smartest way to entertain myself I need practice to really wreak any havoc for Manger Erik. So off to bother some flight attendants.

…

That failed. I am going to leave the revenge plotting to others from now on. I'm not a mean person at heart.

I wonder if this plane has wifi…

* * *

I am waiting for Sara to find the car. Chris rented one out for us. Chris at least did one thing right today. He didn't send his driver to pick us up. That would have been too much. He did rent us a car though. Some type of Mercedes. Black. Simple but no doubt obscenely expensive.

Sara likes it. At least I think so. I can't distinguish between her general happy and her happier. She is a confusing being.

Well, it's time to go. Only two more hours until I can officially say that I am touring with the greatest boyfriend in the world.

...

_Two hours later_

Sara is arguing with the security guard. Sigh. Only my sister has the intelligence (or unintelligence, depending on the way you look at it) to argue with someone who has the ability to make a civil arrest and have us banned from half of San Diego in a matter of minutes.

"What do you mean that we aren't on the entrance list? This car is in Christopher Wilde's name! Do you want to see the paperwork?"

"Miss I'm sorry I am only allowed to permit those with their name on the list if with venue car tags."

"We are not some crazy fan girls! Let. Us. In."

"Miss I am gonna have to ask you to turn around and exit the parking lot."

"I'm afraid that I am incapable of doing that sir," Sara says in a mocking tone.

We were only in police custody two days ago; I don't want to repeat that now. I guess it's my turn to talk now. Lovely.

"Sara!"

She glares at the security guard but slowly turns to me. "What?"

"Give me your phone?"

"Why?"

"I'm going to call Stubby so he can come out and get us."

"Oh…"

"Yeah I know I'm the smart one."

She hands me her phone. Big surprise…Stubby in speed dial number one.

"Stubby here."

"Hey! It's Jessica. Can you come get us? The guard at the gate won't let us through."

"Chris said he put your name on the admittance list. Right before he gave it to me. I gave it to Erik to give to the gate guard. Why is your name not on the…oh." Took him long enough. "Right. I'll be out."

"Thanks Stubby. Please hurry. I don't want Sara to attack the security guard."

"Copy that."

I give Sara her phone back. "He'll be out in two minutes."

"Good." She smiles but then turns back and continues glaring at the guard. That's slightly better than the arguing. But not much.

I'll be glad to get out of this car and walk. Not to mention seeing Chris and watching him perform. Maybe then I will have some insight on why thousands of fan girls all over the world wait in line for hours to get tickets to these concerts.

Maybe.

* * *

_Late_

I'm nearly falling asleep but I'll try to get down most of what happened after I last stopped.

Well after Stubby got to the gate and was finally able to get Sara to stop glaring at (and then laughing at) the security guard we parked and went onto a non-descript RV. While it looked boring or the outside the inside was really amazing. Stubby told us it was Chris's personal tour bus which is why is was so tricked out.

I don't want to take the time to describe how truly awesome this bus was so I'll just say this: I died a little from the awesomeness.

So, Sara and I crashed on the bus for awhile while Stubby went and did best friend of celebrity stuff. A little while later the door opened to reveal Stubby and a disguised Chris.

Sara threw herself at Stubby (big surprise there) and they went off to the back of the bus.

Chris, on the other hand, took off the sunglasses he was wearing and slowly walked over to me. He took me into his arms and hugged me softly. He pulled back a little and looked into my eyes. His eyes are really blue up close. Really, really blue. And then he kissed me.

For a few moments I forgot everything else but Chris and the feeling of his lips on mine. It was amazing, Chris _is_ amazing. This summer was (at that point) going perfectly.

Chris pulled back and rested his forehead against mine while I struggled to not hyperventilate.

"Hey."

"Hi," I said breathlessly.

"Welcome to tour."

"Thanks."

"Ready to go backstage?"

"Will I be mauled by either crazy fans or paparazzi?"

"No."

"Then yes. Speaking of backstage, shouldn't you be back there? It's less than an hour before you go on."

"Well…yes. Me and Stubby, we kind of snuck out, hence the disguise."

"Ooh, Christopher Wilde: Rule Breaker." We laughed then Christopher asked:

"Are you happy?"

"About?"

"The tour? Me? This summer?"

"Yes. Yes, all of it. This is going to be the best summer of my life."

"And here I thought that you didn't like me and were only using me for fame and money."

"Wrong. I like you. A lot."

"I don't think anyone can not like you."

"I'm pretty sure arrest-me-at-midnight manager Erik doesn't."

"That's partially the reason you're here. Let's get the bastard back."

I laughed. "Chris!"

"What? He's a jerk. Aren't I allowed to defend my girlfriend's honor?"

"I don't need to be taken care of."

"But I want to take care of you." Chris pecked me on the lips again.

Isn't that so adorable? Haven't I said all along that Chris is the greatest person ever? The moment was perfect.

Then _he_ walked in.

"I figured I'd find you out here…you need to be side stage in…" then Erik Washington noticed me, attempting to hide behind Chris. "What are _you_ doing here? I thought I made it quite clear during our conversation that you and your sister are no longer a part of the business of Christopher Wilde."

"And I thought _I_ made it clear that you can't force me to do that. Besides, I'm personal, not business." Me: 1, Manager: 0.

"Leave. You're not welcome here."

"No." I step in front of Chris. "I am very welcome. I was invited here, and I don't plan on leaving unless I am dragged away by a pack of raging bears."

"That can be arranged."

"I don't think so." Chris said stepping up beside me. "She and Sara both are guests. Don't forget that you work for me not the other way around."

"What? Are you gonna try and fire me like you did your parents? Sorry kid, you signed a contract you're stuck with me for five more years…or until I drop you." He laughed. "And don't count on that. You're worth a pretty penny and I get 15%."

Chris and I just glared. I hate Erik Washington with a fiery, burning passion.

"Anyway," Washington continued with cool nonattachment, "You are needed side stage in five minutes Christopher. Please leave those not on payroll and without tickets behind." He gave me one last fleeting look before turning on his heel and walking off the bus.

"I hate him," Chris said after Washington had left.

"We all do," Stubby said, walking up with Sara hand in hand.

"But how to we exact our revenge?" Sara asked.

"Oh I have ways," Chris said, still glaring at the closed door of the bus.

"And those plans will have to wait until after the concert," I added in quickly. "Let's avoid more trouble and follow directions for once."

"You're right." Stubby said with a sigh. "Are you girls ready to see the world famous Christopher Wilde?"

Sara nodded emphatically. I forced a smile. Chris continued glaring.

To sum the concert up: Chris was great. The lights were bright. The fans girls screamed.

I attempted to avoid Washington to avoid causing any more trouble tonight. We could do that at another time. This worked for the most part. He passed me at one point and, I think, tried to trip me. I have decent balance and didn't fall. But it didn't make me any happier. At least he didn't tell security that I snuck backstage. I wouldn't put it past him though.

Immediately following the encore the four of us (Chris, Stubby, Sara and I) were forced to practically run to the bus. We didn't actually leave for another hour though. Chris promptly crashed and Stubby followed soon after. Sara flipped through the satellite TV for awhile before she fell asleep. I sent a quick email to Mom and Dad telling them about the day. I nodded off for a bit but then jumped awake and figured I should write about the rest of the day so I wouldn't forget.

Not that forgetting would be easy.

But, as I said, I'm about to fall asleep so I'll wrap this up.

More on what tour life is like tomorrow.

* * *

Ending was blah but whatever.

I promise to update before school starts (next Wed).

I like _thoughtful_ reviews (aka ones that say more than 'update please').

_**Sami**_


	10. June 7 & 8

I rant about how I'm an awful person at the bottom...

* * *

June 7

Morning. So, it's the first full day on tour and I don't really know what to expect. I don't really have much to say right now except that I'm a little nervous but also really excited. I hope that we will get some time today to start wreaking havoc on Washington Evil. I can only hope…

I think I hear someone else getting up. I'll write up the day's happenings tonight.

…

My day in summary: Breakfast, Sitting through numerous interviews for Chris, lunch, more interviews, sound check, free time, concert, everyone else came back and crashed, me writing this.

Exciting no?

No. I mean yes. I mean….whatever. It wasn't exciting. It involved me sitting a lot and listening to Chris, Stubby, and Washington Evil answer the same questions. I took my laptop and lurked around the internet a bit. Sent an email to Mom and Dad, and one to Grandma. Around about the fourth hour of interviews I broke down and decided to read the gossip site to see what fans were saying about Chris.

Everyone was generally enjoying the concerts and excited for the rest of the tour. Then I found an article by some entertainment reporter about me.

_**Christopher Wild's World Tour had started off to a strong start and every screaming fan girl arrives home after each concert one voice short. The pop superstar has a strong career but also seems very level headed. When asked about what keeps him grounded with all the fame, fortune, and screaming girlies, he listed his parents, best friend Stubby, and other **_**very close **_**friends.**_

_**Who are these other "friends" Christopher? It wouldn't happen to be Jessica Olsen; the small town beauty from Michigan would it?**_

_**While Christopher (and his publicist and manager) refused to comment on Miss StarStruck we here at Young Hollywood Weekly are strong Chrissica (Christopher/Jessica) shippers and have a hunch that Jessica Olsen isn't quite out of the spotlight yet.**_

_**But where did she go? After Christopher unexpectedly showed up at Olsen's school dance in late April for an impromptu performance and date proposal she faded into the background of Hollywood has-beens.**_

_**Post your comments below about what **_**you**_** think happened to the sweet Michigan girl who stole our main star's heart. And be on the lookout for future Chrissica updates here on HoolywoodTeenWeekly.**_

So I found that interesting. I thought that everyone had forgot about little old Jessica Olsen from Michigan. Don't get me wrong – I'm totally glad they did. It was nice to be able to leave my house without having to fight through the paparazzi. But why bring me back up again now. The weirder thing was I read the comments on that blog post and people all agreed.

_Yeah! What happened to Jessica? She seemed so real, and nice. I bet Christopher is happy with her._

_How can Christopher see Jessica when he is on tour? Is she on tour with him?_

That last comment caused a lot of frenzy among the fan girls. Everybody was in love with the idea of us being in love. Even though we aren't in love…yet.

I showed Sara some of the comments too and she found them hilarious. She called all those girls "crazy" with "no lives". I refrained from telling her that six months ago she was those girls. She was probably worse actually. If Chris had ever had a girlfriend during the time that Sara was in her obsession mode she wouldn't have wished happiness upon them. She would have wanted to kill whomever he was going out with. Because that's the kind of fan she is.

Other than that, the only other entertaining part of my day was the hour or so of time that the four of us relaxed after sound check.

As hoped, we did begin plans for the ultimate destruction of Evil Manager Erik. It was a very intense planning session. Maps were drawn. Really. Stubby drew diagrams on the best way to systematically take down Washington. It was awesome…and a little weird. But very cool and intense nonetheless.

The only downfall of the plans…we need a very large bucket of chocolate pudding, an empty stadium, six dozen sunflowers, and some hummingbirds. Not exactly the easiest things to obtain on a worldwide tour. Not the easiest things to obtain…ever.

That is what you get when you put two teenage girls, a popstar, and said popstar's best friend in a room together. And that's just day one. Who knows what will happen when we continue with those plans tomorrow.

Today we were in Flagstaff, Arizona. Right now we are driving to Santa Fe, New Mexico.

I guess we get to repeat it all tomorrow.

* * *

June 8

More interviews today I'm told. Oh what fun.

Because I have a feeling that there isn't going to be much to write for the day's events so I'll use space fillers to make it look like I had an interesting day.

Space filler number one: what I had for breakfast. Toast with blueberry jam. Apple juice.

Well that was exciting. It isn't much for a space filler though, only one line.

I'm sure I will find something to write about. If I'm journaling this summer, I am supposed to tell about my days, even if I didn't do anything. Documenting everything, making it memorable.

I can't have anything to write about unless I go and do _something_ so I'll stop writing and go get ready for sitting through another unending string of interviews.

_..._

_After lunch_

Interviews before lunch, interviews after lunch, and interviews during lunch. Hasn't every magazine, TV, blog, and gossip site gotten their 15 minutes with Christopher Wilde yet? Three days straight of press events which translates into three days straight of me being bored out of my mind. Why did nobody tell me about _this_ part of tour life?

I'm sitting through another interview. This time Chris is talking to some overly-peppy, overly blonde thing from _Teen Music Weekly_. If it's been two days and I can barely stand listening to this what are the next three months gonna be like?

And why is every single reporter have to be bleached blondes, with tiny waists? Can't these places send their older, experienced journalists, if you can consider gossip magazines journalism. Which I don't. If they have to be acknowledged of anything, they are stepping stones to bigger and better things. Maybe not even that.

Right, I'm done ranting for the day.

Maybe I'll go bug Sara into doing…something interesting with me. Anything is better than this…

* * *

I've done exactly what I hate when other people do! Go months and months without updating. I feel really awful, and guilty, and a failure, and a whole range of other things.

_BUT_, I'm back and plan to start updating semi-regularly again.

It'll be strange for me to be writing about a summer tour when it's January and we're predicted to get a foot of snow in the next few days (where I live anyway).

My next update will be sometime later today or tomorrow, and then probably late this week.

Feel free to tell me in the comments what a bad person I am for going six months without updating when I said I would update the next day.

_**Sami**_


	11. June 13

On with the story…

(So…the first part is pretty boring but it gets a bit more interesting later…)

* * *

June 13

Why haven't I written in almost five days? Because tour life isn't exciting, all we ever do is sleep, eat, sit through press junk, and watch concerts. Or, in Chris's case, perform concerts.

The concerts are probably the best part of this whole ordeal. It's an adrenaline rush watching from side stage. Right next to the stage it is really bright and hot, but a bit farther back it is practically pitch black and freezing.

The main side stage/backstage area is really simple actually. There is a sound panel right off stage that controls only the basic functions. Most of the fine tuning equipment is on the sound booth located on the main floor of the venue. Backstage there is a few clothing racks for the quick costume changes, usually a food buffet or two, and several coolers filled with water and other assorted beverages.

Dressing rooms and such are on the opposite side of the building…as far away from where the screaming fans are as possible.

Anyway, like I was saying, it's really hot and bright next to the stage but if I go back stage I have to put a sweatshirt on. The only happy mediums are back in the dressing rooms and wandering the hallways of the venue. I've taken to doing that a lot more because you can only watch the same concert so many times.

And watching people is actually really interesting. It's like mass hysteria at these concerts. Screaming, hyper-ness, and random occasions of fainting are just a few of the many common behaviors I have seen from the tween and teen girls. It's a bit scary. Sure, I mean, I knew people were crazy about Christopher Wilde but it seems so much worse when it is 16,000 people in one small space all screaming.

So, that's my mini-study in anthropology. At least when I go back to school I can say I did something intellectual this summer.

I am writing this is Chris's dressing room as he finishes up interviews for the day. He has a concert tonight and then we drive to Washington DC for a mid-tour break. Tomorrow is private, small group, and press conference interviews all day. Sara and I are planning to sneak out and sightsee for most of the day because if I have to sit through one more interview I'm going to snap.

After tomorrow though, very nearly every news outlet in the country will have some form of interview the world-wise superstar Christopher Wilde, and then there will be no more marathon interviews. Thank god.

The day after tomorrow, Thursday June 15th, is a completely free day. Sara, Stubby, Chris, and I are going to go around the city all day hopefully gathering supplies for our takedown of Evil Manager Erik. Yes, that will be fun.

Sara just walked in. Update later if anything interesting happens…

…

Recap of conversation:

Sara walks into Chris's dressing room and plops onto the couch next to me.

"Jess," Sara whines, "I'm bored."

"Yeah. So am I. And I have been for the last week and a half."

"I thought tour was supposed to be fun."

"I recall having this conversation previously."

"That's because we have it everyday, sometimes twice a day."

"Well, after tomorrow, with no more interviews, everything will be better right?" I really have no idea. I'm only hoping so.

"God I hope so."

There were a few moments of silence and we both sat there.

"Have you made the list of stuff we have to buy in DC?"

"Yep," she says deviously. "It will feel so _good_ to get back at evil manager Erik."

"So long as we don't get kicked off the tour." Look at me, being the cautious one.

"I don't think Erik has that power."

"But it's still possible."

"Whatever." She sighed dramatically. "Is it the day after tomorrow yet?"

I laugh. "I can only wish."

Someone raps sharply on the door twice and then walks in.

Speak of the damned devil.

"Ladies," Erik nods at as tersely. Then he looks down at his blackberry. "Don't forget that tomorrow at 2.15 there is a press conference that you both need to be in attendance for. Until then stay as inconspicuous as possible. We don't want 90% of the world knowing that you just _happen_ to be in DC on the days the Christopher Wilde happens to be there."

"So you're announcing tomorrow that we our officially part of the tour?" I ask.

"Yes," he says, without looking at me.

Neither Sara nor I said anything more. Sara was glaring at him with her arms crossed. Erik just stood in the middle of the room as if he owned the place typing away of his Blackberry.

"Stylists will be at your hotel rooms tomorrow morning at 11 to make you presentable."

"Uh-huh," I said, rather angrily. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," he glanced up at me. "You should put a password on your laptop." _What does that mean_? "I know about your little plans, and don't think for a second that it's going to work. I'm more powerful that you two. Don't try anything."

Before I had a chance to respond, Evil Erik turned on his heel and walked out the door, slamming the door behind him.

"I hate him," Sara managed to choke out angrily.

"Yeah, I know."

…

Sara and I used the sound check and concert to completely rewrite our "make the Evil One pay" plans. Then we encrypted them. And password protected them. And translated it into Russian. That was fun.

Chris and Stubby don't know about the rewrites yet though as they were busy the entire time. But hopefully we will get a chance to tell them tomorrow. They will appreciate the changed we made. They _are_ our secret weapon.

What? you ask.

Yes, Erik only seems to think that it is Sara and I planning to make a personal attack on him. He has no idea that Chris and Stubby are in on it too.

Hence, secret weapon material.

Oh, this is going to be so much fun…

* * *

_Yes! Second update in two days! Granted it's not the best writing because it's all plot setup…but fear not! It will get better, I promise. Really. Even though this chapter was as boring as the last because it was one of the ones that I started back in August and just finished now._

_And because someone asked…yes, there will be romance between Chris and Jessica in either the next chapter of the one after it._

_I love you all and feel awful for leaving you alone for six months, but THANK YOU so, so much for all the lovely reviews._

**Sami**

_P.S. I am always open to your continuing comments, criticisms, and ideas. They make my day. :)_


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